Assassin's Creed: The Dark War
by Xboxplayer-12
Summary: Ryan Willimson was torn from his family when he was fourteen. Now at 18, he encounters a strange man, who says he is part of an order. He seems to recognize Ryan, and admits to knowing his father. Now, Ryan must fight alongside the Assassins and find out what really happened to his family. And he'll stop at nothing to find the answers and bring down the Templars.
1. Chapter 1

Welcome to my first fanfic! Since I'm planning to make an Assassin's Creed film for school, I decided to create a written version of the basic plot. NOTE: I do not own nor did I create Assassin's Creed or any existing characters in the Assassin's Creed universe.

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Brotherhood Assassination Log

Date: Sunday, March 7th, 1993

Location: Los Angeles, California, United States

Target: Michael Grove, Abstergo scientist

Time of Assassination: Between 7:00 AM and 7:03 AM Pacific Standard Time

Cause of death: Blood loss and possible internal bleeding

Assassin: Unknown

* * *

I stared outside from my bedroom window, going over the plan one more time. It was retentively simple: the back wall of the warehouse was only lightly guarded at the best of times, and even a fight would likely go unnoticed by anyone inside, thanks to the lack of security cameras. Once I was inside the building, I'd have a clear path to the office, where my target gave the orders that destroyed families, mine included, and abducted young children for his evil experiments. They took my family four years ago. My parents, brother and my sister Julia. I tried to save them, but my father Charlie told me to run. He worked in construction, or so he told me, but he never let any of us know the details of his work.

I was fourteen when that happened, now at 18, I was ready for some answers. I'd been living on the streets, moving from place to place until I found myself back in California. As soon as I got back, I tailed my target, found out where he worked, and plotted how I'd get to him. So much preparing, but it would soon pay off.

I ran a quick check of my equipment: a small knife, nothing fancy, but could easily kill a man. A hand-made pipe bomb for a distraction, and my wrist blade. I'd built it myself from some files at my old house. Strapped to my wrist was the mechanism , ready to eject the blade at the flick of my wrist. On top of it was the brace, made of a strong but flexible metal. I'd tested the weapon many times, and it had never failed me, but what if something went wrong today?

I'd have to find out though. Too much had gone into this, I was not going to back down.

I left the inn at around five in the morning, and walked down to a bus stop, waiting for the bus to take me into Los Angeles. This was during the short time of the year when L.A got some decent rain, and it drummed on the rusted iron roof. I had a black backpack with me, which I would leave a short distance away from the warehouse, and retrieve when the job was done. Inside was the only picture of my family that I had. I looked at it: My sister and I stood in front of our parents, Catherine and Charlie. My father's hair was graying in a few places, which was odd seeing as he was so young. My parents had been only 19 when I came around, so they were doing pretty well when the picture had been taken when I was 12.

I didn't know why they came after us, or who was behind it. But I die before I let them go.

The bus came about ten minutes later, and I found a seat near the back. Everyone else was maybe hoping to catch a bit more sleep before the bus reached Los Angeles. They didn't have long though, because we reached the city within an hour. I asked the driver if the route went to the warehouse, and when he shook his head, I got off in downtown L.A, next to the U.S Bank Tower, and began the long walk to the warehouse.

At about 7:00, I reached the building and scoped it out from a cafe across the street. The building had two floors, and the entrance had two guards with nightsticks and handguns. I could easily take them, I was sure of it, but everyone in the warehouse would be alerted to me, and I'd lose my chance. After looking to both sides of the building, I found two options.

1: Enter the lot through the under construction building on my left. Either no construction was scheduled for today, or no one had arrived yet. Either way, I'd easily get into the building and enter through the staircase.

2: Jump onto the roof from the bridge above. I saw two armed guards on the roof, and there was no telling how heavily guarded it would be. I ruled it out and decided on the construction option.

My plan was decided, and it was time to execute it.

My name is Ryan Williamson, and I am an Assassin.


	2. Chapter 2

**Apologies for the short first chapter. I promise to fix that later. So I'm always concerned about the quality of my writing, so if you have any suggestions, please put it in a review!**

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I scouted the back of the lot from the construction work next to the building. I saw only one guard, and he didn't appear to be heavily armed. He paced back and forth across the entrance, so I'd have to move quickly to dispatch him.

I moved back towards the side of the lot and climbed over the fence, landing silently on the ground, out of site of the guard. I risked a quick look around the corner, the guard had his back turned to me, and appeared to be speaking into a radio. Taking advantage of the distraction, I quickly moved towards him.

"Yeah, the back entrance is clear," the guard said into his two- way radio, "Roger that. Over."

The guard had finished his conversation, and I used the opportunity to quickly move towards him and drive my blade into his back. He made a sound of alarm before I laid him down gently on the dead grass.

The back wall of the building had three rectangle-shaped windows and a door for the ground floor, and four windows for the upper floor. The back door led to a staircase, one of two routes to the office, the other being an elevator that went between the floors. The bottom floor would be heavily guarded, but hopefully I wouldn't have to take that option.

I ejected my blade as I gently opened the door, but the stairs were deserted, and dark. I propped the door open with a brick from outside, and ventured up the staircase. The door to it was ajar, and light shone through.

_That's odd_, I thought. Surely they wouldn't be so foolish as to leave an entrance so unguarded? Something didn't add up, but I wasn't going to let it stop me. Through the crack in the door I saw a guard standing with his back to the door, watching over the second floor. The level consisted of of walkway on the back wall that looked out over the first floor below, an elevator to my right that went between levels, and an office at the other end.

Apart from the guard, there was no one else, until the creaking elevator appeared and two people stepped out. One of them was my target, Michael Grove, a man in his forties, with his black hair graying at the sides. The second person was a woman, probably no older than 20 or so, with blonde hair that was tied back.

"And I want you to double the guards on the back entrance. I don't want any Assassins getting in," Grove said to the woman, who replied with "Yes, Mr Grove."

Assassins? Was someone else hunting this man?

"Good," Grove replied, reaching his office, "That'll be all."

The guard wolf-whistled as the woman hurried passed, cursing Grove under her breath.

"Goddamn perverted bastards," she fumed, "Someone kill that guy already!" I couldn't stop myself from laughing at the irony.

Unfortunately, both the guard and the woman had heard me. The former motioned for her to be quiet, and reached for the handle to yank the door open. When the light hit me, I ejected my blade and buried it deep in the man's stomach. The woman's jaw dropped in shock, while I lowered the body to the floor and whispered "Help me with this."

She complied, most likely out of fear, and we moved the guard into the stairwell.

"Who are y-?" she began, but I cut her off.

"Quiet, someone might hear," I whispered, "Listen carefully, I'm here for Michael Grove. I need your help to get to him."

"Why do you need me?" she asked.

"You can help me keep this quiet. I can't afford to get caught," I explained quickly.

"What did he do to you?" she asked, seeming to relax. I looked down.

"He took my family," I said plainly.

"God," she said, "He took mine to. Made me work for him. The things he does to me, it's horrible. I never knew what happened to them."

I nodded my understanding.

"Listen, if you can help me kill him, maybe we can both find our families.," I told her.

"Thank you," she replied, "My names Angela."

"Ryan," I said, "OK, let's go."

We exited the stairwell and made sure no one was around, then crept up to Grove's office.

"One question," I said, "What did he mean by 'Assassins'?"

"I don't know," Angela answered, "He only said they hunted him and his 'business partners'."

"In that case, I'd call them allies," I replied.

I could hear Grove typing on the computer, and it was then that I made my move.

"Hey," Grove said irritably, beginning to look up, "Ever heard of knock-"

He didn't even finish this sentence before I had pinned him to the floor and embedded my blade in his chest.


	3. Chapter 3

**I hope you enjoyed the last chapter. If the pacing of my story is slow, then please leave a review. This is going to be a long term story for me, so I want to make it better based on what you guys think. Any feedback is appreciated. **

* * *

Grove struggled on the floor, but it was pointless. My blade had practically nailed him to the floor. He groaned as he lifted his head, and saw the blade embedded in his chest.

"W-why?" he managed to say. Angela entered the room and stared at him in disgust.

"You took my family, you bastard!" I hissed at him, and looked at Angela, "Her's too."

"Y-your... not one of them?" Grove looked confused.

"One of what?" I snapped, "Answer me, goddammit!"

He was fading fast, and my time was short.

"What are you talking about? Answer me!" I demanded.

Too late. He was gone, along with any chance of finding my family. Sighing, I pulled my blade out of his chest. It was coated in the man's blood.

"Is he dead?" asked Angela.

"Yes," I confirmed.

"There might be something in his files," she suggested, "We should look through them before we leave."

I nodded, and moved towards his desk. A brief glance at his computer showed an unfinished email to someone. I skimmed over the text, it didn't look important.

A search through his desk drawers showed nothing of interest, until I got to the end, and saw a file labeled "Animus Project, Abstergo Industries".

"Animus?" Angela wondered, looking over my shoulder, "He's never said anything about that."

I opened the folder. On the front page was a list of test subjects, and their condition after. My heart skipped a beat when I reached the names at the bottom:

Williamson, Charlie: Alive

Williamson, Julie: Alive

Williamson, Victoria: Alive

Williamson, Jack: Alive.

And at the bottom, one more name:  
Williamson, Ryan: Unknown

The document was dated March 6th, 1993. They were alive!

"They're alive!" I exclaimed, "My family's alive!"

"Keep it down," Angela said, "Can I see it?"

I gave her the document and she scanned the list of names. In a second, she had gasped.

"What? What is it?" I asked in concern.

"My brother and sister, they're listed as alive!" she said, leaping into the air.

"I'd hate to interrupt," said a voice, "But we should be getting out of here."

We both turned, and I ejected my blade again.

"Relax," The newcomer said, "I'm on your side. He looked at Grove's body.

"Been tracking that prick for months," he said, "I was hoping to kill him myself, but either way, the job is done."

"Who are you?" I demanded.

"Name's Ethan," he said, And yours?"

"Ryan," I said plainly. Ethan looked at me.

"You're Charlie Williamson's kid," he stated.

"You know him?" I asked. Who was this man, and how did he know my father?

"Everyone in the Brotherhood knows him," Ethan explained. He gave me another look, "you look like one of us, but you're clearly not."

"One of what?" Angela spoke up, "The 'Assassins'?"

Yep," Ethan replied, "I'm guessing you have more than a few questions, so let's get out of here before the cops show up."

This man, and these "Assassins" knew my father. Maybe they knew what hap happened to him and the rest of my family?

Either way, I had to meet them. They were the only lead I had.

Outside, two guards had showed up, and by the looks of things, they'd found there dead friend. When we exited the office, they looked up at us.

"Hey! Stop right there!" one of them said, and they both ran toward us. Ethan ran forward as well, ejecting his own wrist blade, which sliced open the throat of the first guard, while a short blade found itself in the stomach of the second.

"Makes you look like an amateur," Angela commented. She still had the Animus file with her.

"Makes me look like I don't show off," I replied.

The fight had alerted the guards below, and we knew they'd be on us in seconds.

"C'mon, this way!" Ethan shouted. We followed him back into the stairwell, jumped over the guard's body and ascended the stairs to the roof.

"What happened to the guards?" I wondered, looking around the roof.

"How do you think I got in?" Ethan responded, "Over here, quickly."

Ethan climbed over the barrier at the front of the building and landed on the roof of the veranda covering the main entrance.

I lowered Angela down, and jumped down next to her. Ethan was already waiting at street level, and we easily made our way down next to him.

"The truck's this way!" Ethan said. I didn't know what he was talking about, but I trusted him.

The warehouse sat just in front of a raised freeway. Ethan led us around the building and under the bridge. A single white truck waited for us.

"Any backup?" I asked, hearing guards shouting around the corner.

As if on cue, the back doors of the van opened and a man looked at us.

"Well get in!"

We happily complied, and the man shut the doors just as the guards came running around the corner and opened fire on the van.

"Drive!" Ethan yelled. The van sped away, leaving the guards behind.


	4. Chapter 4

**Sorry for the long wait. I put Chapters 2 and 3 up on the same day, and I apologize for the much longer wait for this chapter. Thank you too everyone who reads my story and I'd be very grateful for feedback of any kind. Enjoy!**

* * *

'Who the hell is this?" the man asked as the van sped away from the guards, who were firing pointlessly at the back of the van. Cracks appeared in the windows, but they did not shatter.

"Vigilante. Don't worry Vince, they're with me," Ethan answered.

"What about Grove?" Vince asked, "Did you get him?"

"Williamson here got him first," Ethan told him, "It was a good kill. The boy's got talent." Vince looked at me.

"Williamson?" he questioned, "As in Charles Williamson?"

I nodded. Here was another person who knew my father.

"I thought he'd gotten captured with the rest," Vince commented.

"He got away," Ethan explained, "and with his father's blade as well."

Vince looked down at my blade, and so did I. I had managed to escape with the hidden blade I now used all those years ago.

"That's not the only thing we got," Angela piped up, and handed Vince the Animus file. After skimming through it's contents, he said "Guess our insiders didn't know about this."

Ethan moved to the front of the van and said to the driver "Dave, take us to the hideout in Venice Beach."

"Hang on," said Vince, frowning, "That's not the plan. We're supposed to get out Los Angeles."

"It's worth the risk to make sure the others know that not only is Williamson alive, but we have his son as well," Ethan explained.

"Wait a minute," I interjected, "First off, why is my farther so important to you? Second, what do you want with me? Third, you can't keep us captive."

"We're not going to," Ethan assured us, "We'll explain everything about your farther when we get back to the hideout. If you wanna leave, go ahead, but the Templars are out there and looking for the guy who took out a major asset to their cause, and plus: you have a better chance of finding your family if you stick with us."

"Templars?" Angela piped up.

"Our enemies," Dave said, "Or maybe you know them as Abstergo."

I laughed, and said "Abstergo? Really? The tech company?"

"Tech company, yes," answered Vince, "And yes, really. Abstergo is involved in science and technology, but all that "better future" bullshit is a lie. They only use technology to ensure that they have everyone in the world under their control."

It was night time when we reached Venice Beach. As we drove around the area, I heard a voice on the radio.

"And earlier today, Aberstgo scientist Michael Grove was found murdered while inspecting a property on downtown Los Angeles. A single stab wound was found on the body, and police strongly believe that foul play was involved."

Finally, we stopped next to an old building, that looked like a run-down apartment. A few lights were on in the lower windows, but other than that,the place seemed empty.

"Here we are," Dave announced, "Move quickly, I don't want anyone seeing us."

We exited the van and Angela and I were whisked into the ground floor of the building. The entire floor was one room, and dimly lit by a few lamps. A single man sat at a desk in the corner.

"Evening gents," he said in a British accent, "Brought some guests have we?"

"If only you knew who we found," Dave muttered to the man as the five of us walked past the desk and toward a staircase leading down. Coming from the bottom of the stairs, I could hear several voices and footsteps, and the room below seemed more brightly-lit.

We found ourselves in a long, but wide corridor, with doors on either side. People came and went as we walked by, and several stared at my blade, with Grove's dry blood still on it.

At the end was a large room, and it was bustling with activity. Workstations were set up around the walls, with the exception of the large screen built into the front wall. Men and women sat at the stations, all with headsets, multiple monitors and computers that looked like they were supplying the world's internet.

At the end of the room, between two workstations, was a single wooden door.

"Alright Williamson," Vince told me, "You're about to get your answers."

Inside was an office with a desk at the back and two chairs on our side, and one at the other. A man sat in the chair, examining a report. He looked up, and said "Ahh, Ethan, you're back. I heard about Grove's death. Good kill. Now... as for-"

He stopped dead in his sentence when he saw me next to Dave and Angela.

"Is-is that?" he said in disbelief.

"Yep," Ethan confirmed, "Charles Williamson's son, and the guy who stole my kill today."

The man stood up form his desk and approached. he was an older man, maybe a bit older than Grove, but he seemed very healthy and fit for some his age.

"You must have several questions," he said, then invited me to sit down in one of the chairs, and motioned for Angela to do the same.

"So, you're the one who killed Grove?" he asked.

"Yes," I told him.

"I see," he paused, then said, "We're not sorry to see him gone; he was a target of ours for months. But what is it that you wanted with him?"

"He was involved in my farther's kidnapping," I explained, "Why does everyone here know him?"

"Charlie never told you?" the man asked in surprise. I shook my head in confusion.

"Christ Charles, what were you thinking?" he muttered to himself, "Where to begin? Okay. Ryan, I'll be truthful here, your farther was an Assassin. yes, I know you have questions." He saw me begin to interrupt.

"Your farther was one of us. We're a group of... well you could call us vigilantes. Our enemies are the Templars, known these days as Abstergo Industries. They're a corrupt organisation who wish for control over very man and woman on this earth, and we're the only ones standing in their way. Your farther was one of the greatest we had ever known, and we had hoped you would someday join our Order, but we can't force you to make a decision. It's your choice now. You wish to find your family, I know, but so do we, and I hope that you may fight alongside us and help us bring him back home. You'll have a better chance with us, as an Assassin."

I thought about it, then gave him my answer.

"I'm in. When do we start?"


	5. Chapter 5

**Here it is, Chapter 5! I'm trying to get chapters out at a consistent pace, but it doesn't seem to be taking off at the moment. I've decided to alternate between my AC and GTA V stories, so expect Epsilon Part 4 after this.**

* * *

"You've done well," Jones commented. He had introduced himself after I had agreed to join, "I have to say, you've gotten through most of the training faster than even your father." He stroked his beard. "Well done to you too, Angela."

Angela looked at him and holstered her combat blade.

"Thank you sir," she said, bowing slightly out of respect.

"Please, call me George," he replied. He'd been different from what I expected. He was more of a mentor than a leader. He never asked to be called "sir" or "Master" unless it was important Assassin business. Even then, he usually didn't call people out on slip=ups.

After joining the Order, I was given a room with Ethan. The next day, I'd found that Angela had also been accepted. We were told that the Grove Assassination was meant to be a test of sorts for Ethan and his team, who were currently two members short. As a result, we studied together.

We trained for three weeks. Each day we had three theory classes: History, Combat and Operations, and two practical activities: Stealth and Combat. The classes took place at a compound outside Los Angeles. We had nine buildings: one for each class, the dorm rooms, the cafeteria, the library, the animus room, the lounge and the infirmary. A training ring was used for Combat, and a course was set up for Stealth.

Each day, we'd wake up at 6:00 AM, and have breakfast at 6:30. At 7:20, we'd have Combat Theory, where we'd learn about tactics, analyse battles and organize tactics for a hypothetical battle, which would be simulated using an Animus.

At 8:00 AM, we'd have Stealth, which would involve practicing on a course and the Animus, competing against each other and A.I. This was an essential part of the Assassin's Order, I later learned. Luckily, I was good, as was the team.

At 8:50 we'd have Combat Training. This involved sword, blade and bare fists fighting, usually without the Animus. We'd keep it up for two hours until we finally had some time to clean ourselves up for the remainder of the day.

At 11:30, we'd be back at it with History, learning about famous Assassins, the effect they had on the Order and also famous battles, as well as the "Pieces of Eden": strange forerunner objects that the Templars searched for. At noon, we'd have lunch, then our last class: Operations. This was by far my favorite. Simulating assassinations and sieges using the Animus, and watching the scales tip in your favor was extremely satisfying.

We'd have some free time, then dinner. Lights out was at 10:30 PM, then we'd get up and repeat.

About 7 weeks after Grove's death, we faced our trial: A team assassination in a Templar-controlled New York City.

Our target was at an event in lower Manhattan, making a speech at the Freedom Tower. He'd be unprotected for a brief moment after reaching one of the top floors of the building. That was when we'd strike.

Angela piloted the helicopter high above the building, and Ethan and I sat on each end, ready to parachute onto the building. Dave was positioned in a neighboring building, ready to take out the target's guards.

"Alright," Angela shouted over the sound of the helicopter blades, "You're good to go!"

"Got it. Let's do this, team," Ethan yelled back, and we jumped, free falling down quickly towards the roof.

"Deploy your shoot!" Ethan said over a mic, and I pulled the lever that let the shoot catch the wind, and I went from free falling to drifting down smoothly. Not far away, Ethan floated down too. Below us, the lights illuminating the two large memorials to the victims of 9/11, and the unfinished buildings around them.

We landed softly and silently on the roof of the Freedom Tower, and I knew Dave was watching through his sniper scope.

"Alright," his voice cracked through my mic, "Target's just below you. Elevators are shut down and I'm taking out the guards."

A shot rang out, and that was our cue to act. We quickly descended the stairs to the floor below as two more shots rang out, and I heard the thud of a body hitting the floor. As we made it to the bottom and entered the cafe, I saw a man, surrounded by three dead bodies and three puddles of blood. Upon seeing us, he stumbled backwards in terror.

"No.. please... don't!" he sputtered, crawling away. Before he could go anywhere, I'd pounced on him, ejected my blade, and ended the man's life.

The entire room fell apart, the man disappeared, and Ethan and I stood surrounded by pale blue fog. Then, I woke up to see Jones standing over me, along with the rest of my team.

"Well done Ryan," Jones commented, "I think you're ready."

Two days later, we were out on the field, back in L.A, and mixing with the gangs of the city.


	6. Chapter 6

**I know that the last chapter was a bit shorter, but I had to stay on schedule. Don't worry, this one is going to be where things get interesting. Enjoy!**

* * *

"So I've heard you got a bone to pick with Abstergo," I said to the man, setting my glass back down on the table.

"Yeah man," Franklin replied, "People around here are trying to make an honest dollar and those suit-wearing motherfuckers just keep getting in the way."

Very few people were around in the bar, but we were quiet all the same. In these parts of L.A, you had to be careful, or so Franklin told me.

"So what's your deal with 'em?" he asked.

"Well for my... superiors it's just business, but it's personal for me."

"Oh they ripped you off too? Or are you a cop?"

"Not a cop no," I assured him.

"How do I know you ain't bullshitting?"

"Well I'm not a racist," I pointed out.

"True," Franklin agreed, "So listen, we got a deal going on and those rich assholes will probably be there to creep on us, you could take a whole lotta them out, and make a few bucks."

"I'm not interested in money. Just taking those fucks out."

"Shit they pissed you off for real didn't they?"

"They kidnapped my family," I said darkly.

"Shit," Franklin replied soberly, "That's rough man."

"Anyway," I said, "You guys go on with the deal, and we'll back you up when Abstergo crashes the party. You guys split, and we'll handle the rest."

"What about my money?" Franklin questioned.

"Perhaps this will ease you a bit." I took out a stack of hundred dollar bills and set in on the table.

"Yeah that'll do." Franklin pocketed the money.

"Alright," I said, standing, "See you tomorrow morning."

"Crack of dawn, white boy."

I didn't enjoy working with gangbangers, and neither did the rest of the team, but these guys hated Abstergo, so they were useful.

The next morning, the five of us drove down in the van to a place Franklin had called "The Grove". Run-down houses lined the street, and two cars sat at the end, one green, one purple.

"We seriously doing this?" I asked nervously, sitting in the passenger seat.

"We gotta," Ethan replied as we pulled up, "Besides, this guy's a good kid, just unlucky."

I hoped he was right.

"You buys ready?" Franklin asked as we exited the van. All the houses on the street were small and unkempt, and the men standing by the car, all of them black, wore jean shorts, t-shirts (some purple, some black) and a few wore hooded jumpers.

"As ready as we'll ever be," Ethan replied.

"So Franklin, you got the shit?" asked one of the gangsters dressed in purple.

"Yeah right here man," Franklin help up the package, covered in brown paper and taped shut. The gangster took it and weighed it in his hand.

"Seems legit," he called to his buddies by the car, and handed Franklin an envelope. Looking inside, I saw a large amount of $100 dollar bills.

"Alright," said Franklin, "This never happened, you got it?"

Before the man could reply, everyone noticed the loud sound of helicopter blades. When I looked up, I saw the Abstergo logo printed on the underbelly of the black chopper.

"Shit! Feds!" one of the gangsters yelled.

Everyone ran for cover just as the helicopter opened fire on the group. A missile hit both cars, engulfing them in a fireball. Bullets kicked up stones that hit the back of my heels as I dived over a fence, ran through somebody's front yard, and ran around the side of the house. The helicopter continued to fire at surrounding houses, causing smoke to rise through the destroyed roofs.

I ran around the back of the house and found the rest of the Assassin's team hiding next door.

"Ryan," Ethan said, "We need the RPG or that helicopter will tear us to shreds!"

I sprinted out of the house and to the back doors of the van. From somewhere, the surviving gang members were firing their AK-47s at the chopper.

I unloaded the RPG and hoisted it onto my shoulder. It was an older model, so I'd have to time my shot just right. The chopper sprayed fire over the street, and bullets hit the van just as I fired.

The rocket went flying towards the helicopter, hitting the tail just as it turned.

The back of the aircraft exploded, sending pieces everywhere. The burning chopper crashed in the middle of the street, with parts flying off and the blades breaking off as they hit the road.

The helicopter itself didn't explode though, and the injured pilot struggled to unstrap himself. As he managed to free himself, I ran at him and pinned him against the crashed aircraft.

"How did you know we would be here?!" I demanded, ejecting my blade and holding it to his face.  
"I.. I..." he stuttered. I moved the blade closer so that it touched, but did not pierce, the skin.

"Start talking," Ethan said as the group joined me.

"We never knew his full name," the pilot said very quickly, "We were only told that his name was Grove."

An alarm bell went off in my head. This could NOT be a coincidence.

"Why does he want us dead?" I questioned him.

"I don't know!" the pilot snapped, "He only said that you lot were a threat."

Without taking my eyes off him, I said to Dave "Get me some duct tape. We're bringing this guy in."

The pilot grinned nastily.

"Will you now?" he said, "Because if you want your sister Julie to survive the d-"

The man went from taunting me to screaming in pain. I'd bent his middle finger back.

"Oh God!" he yelled in agony, "Please no more!"

"Then. Start. Talking."

"Your family is being held in a Templar Facility in San Diego," he said, "They're being moved in two days by truck to Los Angeles."

I released him, and he slid to the pavement.

"Tell your master this: if any harm comes to anyone in my family, then I'll make sure it's the last thing he ever does," I told him, "Do you understand?"

The pilot nodded fearfully. I began to turn away, but out of the corner of my eye, I saw the man pull a gun and take aim.

Before I could eject my blade and take his life, a gunshot rang out and blood was pouring out of the man's head.

Franklin lowered the gun and said "Nobody fucks with my homies."

A few ours later, the Assassin team was back at the compound outside the city.

"My family is being moved from San Diego by truck in two days," I told Jones, "They'll be moved at midnight, and they won't be guarded."

Jones thought for a moment.

"How can we be sure he was telling the truth?" he finally said, "It could be a ruse."

"Sir," Ethan interrupted, "It's a risk we have to take. We have no idea what the Animus project is, and if Williamson is indeed being moved, then he could give us information into what Abstergo's doing."

"I agree," Angela added, "This is the big break we've been waiting for. This is an opportunity we can't pass up."

Jones nodded.

"Very well. I'll send a second team to assist you in the mission. You can plan with them how you'll go about this."

We spent the next day planning the extraction with another Assassin team. the second team would engage the Templars in a firefight, hopefully taking them out while we freed the prisoners. Angela was very determined for this to go well, as there was a chance that her brother and sister were being transported.

The night of the mission came, and I was excited, nervous and dreading the events to come. What if they weren't there? What if they were dead? How would they react to seeing the child who ran away?

We left Venice Beach at 8:00 PM and posted ourselves next to the highway where we'd intercept the Templars.

"Alright guys," I said to my team. The others were waiting on either side of the road to engage the truck, "When we hear the shots, we go in quietly and get any prisoners out. No shooting unless something goes wrong. Got it?"

Everyone nodded.

"Guys, look!" Angela whispered.

The truck was here, the Abstergo logo barely visible on it's side. And right on schedule, the Assassins opened fire, taking out the tires and sending the truck spinning. It came to a stop and the driver and passenger jumped out and returned fire briefly before dropping dead from the bullets. At the same time, we ran down the hill to the truck.

The other Assassin's moved in as we tried to open the back doors of the truck. Nodding to Angela, we fired our handguns at the locks, and they opened slightly. Pulling them open and activating our flashlights, we peered inside.

Around a dozen people in grey outfits, looking tired and weary, stared back at us. Among them, were the people I'd come for.

"Ryan?" my father asked, stepping forward. Behind him was my mother, sister and brothers.

"Angela?" someone else said, and two people ran forward and embraced her.

My father looked at me.

"You... you found us."

I said nothing, but ran and embraced the family I had longed to see for four years.


	7. Chapter 7

**I'd like to thank everyone who has so far left a review. This story has been more well-received than I could imagine and I abandon it when so many people clearly enjoyed it!**

* * *

"So you were on your own for four years?"

"Sure was," I said, releasing the arrow. It whizzed through the air and hit the bullseye of the target about twenty meters away. My brother, Keith, looked only slightly impressed.

"I'm surprised you even remember anything I taught you at all," he commented. He was a few years older than me, and was a champion at archery in high school.

"Dad put up a real fight," Julia told he as she took aim with her bow, "But there were too many of them even for him.

"What did they treat you like?" I asked, turning serious.

"They weren't that bad," Julia admitted, "Quite a few of them didn't want to be there. Abstergo threatened their families the force them to work for them."

"Yeah," Keith added, "A few of them were talking about letter the prisoners out and escaping. They're being held against their will in there."

It had been a month since the rescue operation, and my family had been moved here. After a few discussions, Jones agreed to let Keith and Julia into the Brotherhood as recruits. After the rescue, a temporary archery range had been erected while we considered relocating.

"Did you guys know?" I asked, "About what Dad did?"

Julia shook her head. "No, he only told us after we were captured."

"Ryan?" I heard. Turning, I saw Jones approaching us.

"Yes?" I replied, lowering my bow.

"I need to see you and your team in my office," he said, looking grim, "You two as well."

* * *

"WHAT?!" Ethan thundered, jumping out of his seat.

"Ethan, I know you don't want to believe it, but-"

"Where's the evidence?!" he raged, pacing around the office, "There's no way it can be true!"

"What is this?" my father had entered the room with an impatient look on his face.

"We have reason to believe-" Jones began.

"It's NOT TRUE!" Ethan shouted, "Nobody here would do anything like that!"

"Like what?" Charlie asked.

"We believe there may be a traitor in the Brotherhood," Jones said before Ethan could interrupt again.

Everything was silent for a moment.

"Wha-what?" Charlie stammered, "No, it can't be possible."

"Think for a minute Dad," I told him, "Why did the Templars get to the highway almost before we could get out of there? How did they know where we lived even when you tried to hide us? This kind of thing can't be pulled off without an inside man."

"Charlie, the Templars have been one step of the Assassins since Al Mualim betrayed us in 1191," Jones reasoned, "It could be possible that there's always been someone on the inside."

Charlie sighed. "Alright then," he said, "Do we have any suspects?"

"No, only that it's nobody in this room," Jones informed him.

"So what's the next move?" Keith asked.

"First of all we need to relocate as soon as possible," Jones explained, "If there is a traitor, then Abstergo probably knows where we are."

If fate ever had a sense of humor, it was then. Because a loud BOOM erupted somewhere in the hideout.

"Well we got our answer," Dave said grimly.

"Wait," Vince said, "How can we be sure it's them?"  
"Who else would it be?" I replied, "We gotta get out there!"

Jones' office was located under Venice Beach, and the only parts of the base at sea level were the training ground and the anti-aircraft guns. Judging by the direction from which the noise came from, I decided that the blast came from the training grounds. It turned out that I was right, because when we finally reached the training grounds using the railway system that was used to go from place to place quickly, we found the tunnel blocked off by rubble, while Assassins led injured allies out of the station. Dust made it difficult to breathe, and we left the station quickly. Charlie had stayed behind to escort the recruits, including Keith and Julia, and my mother out of the base.

What we all saw when we reached the surface was a scene of absolute carnage. Smoke filled the air, rising above the burning buildings of the training ground. People ran all over with assault rifles and bazookas, firing at something on the other side of the large metal wall that separated us from the outside world. Another shell, from a tank perhaps, flew over our heads and literally blew part of a watch tower off it's base and sent the rubble hurtling in all directions.

"They've got the place surrounded!" somebody yelled.

"We've gotta use the tunnels! It's our only chance!" some else called.

Before anyone could make a decision, part of the wall was blown open and hundreds of Templar soldiers swarmed the compound. Some of them had guns, others had short blades that sliced open the necks of anyone who was unfortunate enough to be near them.

"This way, to the armory!" Jones yelled, leading us back down into the station and through a side door. We found ourselves in a long room with weapons of all kind displayed. Blades, guns, explosives, you name it.

"Grab whatever you can get, we got a lot of Templars up there!" Jones ordered, grabbing a blade and two pistol.s I picked out a deadly-looking short blade, similar to a machete, but with a slight curve to it, a small, modified pistol with a suppressor and flashlight, and a second hidden blade with the Assassin emblem engraved on it.

The Templars and Assassins were engaged in battle, scattered across the training ground. Some were already dead, blood surrounding the bodies. A Templar agent ran at me, knife drawn, only to be met with a blade that opened his neck and sent him sprawling to the ground with blood spurting everywhere. As two more aimed their rifles at me, I pulled out my pistol and grabbed my dead foe's gun and fired. Both men dropped to the ground. 

"We've almost got them! Push 'em back!" Jones commanded. The Templars were losing the fight, and began to retreat to the wall. The Assassins cheered and took out as many as possible until we'd sent them running back over the hills. Everyone shouted their delight, but a few heard the sound of engines above.

I was one of them, and when I looked up, I saw planes flying overhead. And when the bombs began to fall, I shouted "RUN!"

Only my team, Jones and a handful of others heard me, and looked up at the sight of the bombs falling at an alarming speed. We ran as fast as we could for the station, while the others got the message and ran for their lives. Just as we reached the safety of the underground station, the bombs went off.

I was propelled forward, and the last thing I remembered before blacking out was the impact of my head on the cold tiles below.


	8. Chapter 8

When I woke up, the fist thing I registered was the beeping, perhaps a heart monitor. Then I heard the murmuring.

"How did he survive?"

"He was lucky. that's for sure."

"What about the others?"

"They barely got out of there alive. We lost a lot of good people today."

"Thank God we got the recruits and Ethan's team out. They're the best we have, and the recruits show some real skill."

"What about Williamson?"

"On life support, but he'll recover."

"And his family?"

"The woman is gonna have some vision problems for the rest of her life, but she got off lightly."

"And him?"

"We don't know if he'll even wake up, and if he does, if he'll be the same."

"It would be a shame if he does. He's shown so much talent in such a short time."

I slowly opened my eyes. At first, my vision was blurred, but as it cleared up, I saw a dark grey ceiling, white walls, a window showing a cloudy sky, and a group of people near the wooden door. One of them I saw was Jones, battered, but unharmed. The others wore the Assassin emblem, but I didn't recognize them. Clearly, I wasn't in L.A any more.

"Look, he's awake!" one of the men whispered, and the four of them huddled around my bed.

"Ryan?" Jones asked nervously.

I slowly turned my head to look at him. "Where are we?"

"The Assassin hideout in New York," Jones informed me, "It's meant to be an insurance company, but that's just a front."

"You must be wondering what happened," one of the men said.

"Who are you?" I asked groggily.

"William," he said, "William Miles."

"William's the Master of the Assassins," Jones explained.

"I thought you were," I told him. Jones laughed.

"No, it's not my time yet. I only lead the L.A branch," he looked solemn, "Or I used to, that is."

"The attack," I said, remembering, "Did anyone else make it out?"

"Your family and team made it out," William assured me, "Your mother will have some vision problems, but she's recovering already. But we lost a lot of of the L.A branch died in the attack."

I sighed. "How did they find us?"

William and Jones exchanged a look.

"There's a traitor in the Brotherhood," William said after a moment's pause.

"Jesus," I said, "Do we have any leads?"

"Only one," Jones told him, "An Assassin agent was seen outside the walls just before the attack. The informant says that he spoke with a man wearing a Templar ring."

"What do we do now?" I asked.

"We're putting you back on the field, if you're up to it that is," informed William.

"Then what are you waiting for?" I asked, "Now, where's my blade?"

* * *

The next day, I was reunited with my family and team. My mother kept blinking to clear up her left eye, but she'd have to just get used to it. Charlie was now part of the team, so we both set out to find the Assassin Jones had mentioned. It would be challenging; NYC was a big place, but we had reason to believe he was in lower Manhattan. We drove there from the disused building in Harlem that the Assassins used in a white sedan. The car came with two handguns and several spare licence plates, in case the police became a problem.

"So where's the guy?" I asked as I drove.

"The informant says the Assassin's in a cafe in Battery Park City," Charlie told me, "He'll bring the Assassin around the back of the cafe so we can confront him."

"Got it."

I would have loved to see the sights of New York. It was always something we discussed, but it never happened. But I had to resort to seeing the NYC landmarks from the car. We had difficulties getting past the World Trade Center; the bombing from February had left it's mark, and there was heavy construction at the base of the North Tower. When we got their, the grey-hooded informant look impatience.

"You're five minutes late," he pointed out, scowling.

"Troy, it's New York," Charlie retorted. Troy sighed in defeat.

"Alright, you guys hide out of site while I lure him to the alleyway. When we go round the corner, you follow." He disappeared into the cafe, leaving us alone.

"I'm still wondering," I said, "How far does our reach really extend?"

"We've got Assassin operations all over the world," Charlie said as we went back to the car, "Each country has more than a few, but we have a bureau in every American state. Well, except one."

It only just occured to me; with the base destroyed and hundreds dead, California was in Templar hands.

A few minutes later, Troy emerged and led the traitor around the back of the cafe. We followed. The Assassin turned around and said "What the hell?"

I pinned him against the wall, while Troy and Charlie stood on either side.

"Where were you when the L.A base was attacked?" I questioned.

"I don't know what you're talking about!" the Assassin said, panting with terror. Pathetic.

"Don't lie," Troy advised him, "We know you were talking to a Templar outside before the attack."

"They threatened me!" the Assassin complained, "They were going to kill me!"

"So you betrayed us?!" Charlie said, outraged, "You swore do devote your life to this! We called you brother, and gave you a life!"

"You are mistaken," the Assassin spat, the fear suddenly gone, "I can never betray those who were never my allies."

"What do you mean?" Charlie asked, but the Assassin could only laugh before I drove my blade through his forehead.

"Damnit, Ryan!" Troy scolded, "We could have gotten more out of him!"

"He'd never have talked," I replied calmly, pulling my blade out and letting the body slide to the ground.

"If only we'd-" Troy began.

"Tortured him?" Charlie finished, "We are not the Templars, we shouldn't become them.

Troy looked unconvinced but didn't argue.

"Well, I said, shaking my blade clean, "That's one less Templar to deal with."

* * *

"So there was no other way?" Ethan leaned against the railing, looking at me.

"He was a Templar through and through. We couldn't afford to let him live."

He sighed. "Such a shame, but the job is done."

"So what's our next move?" I asked.

"We're tracking a guy named Sam Grove," Ethan said, "And yes, he's Michael Grove's brother."

"What's his story?" I asked.

"He's their leader. The guy who runs it all. Take him out, and we'll have the Templars defenseless."

"So what's the plan to get him?"

Ethan looked serious. "Ryan, Grove has a death wish on you. If he capþres you, he'll do worse than kill you."

"Are you asking me to stay out of this?" I asked. Ethan flinched.

"Ryan, I didn't mean-"

"Don't give me that!" I snapped, "You think I can't handle it." Ethan scowled.

"That's not it. I just don't want to see you get hurt!" he said, unable to cover up how hurt he was. I saw my mistake.

"I'm sorry man," I said, "I shouldn't act like that, but don't worry, I can handle myself."

Ethan looked relieved. "No, I should have thought better of you. I'm sorry."

We looked down at the street from the observation deck, in the distance was the Chrysler Building, and the Twin Towers stood in the distance.

"It's almost over, Ryan," Ethan said, "Our job's nearly done."


	9. Chapter 9

**I would like to thank everybody who has left a review so far. When I first began writing, I did not expect any kind of success for this story. However, everyone who has viewed this story has helped me to keep writing. I have even postponed work on my other fanfiction in order to improve this one. Hope you enjoy!**

* * *

The battle outside Los Angeles had not gone unnoticed by the general public. We were foolish to think it would, and we felt so stupid when we saw the news reports of the "strange occurrences" near the city. Even worse, Dave and Keith had studied the Animus file that Angela and I had taken a lifetime ago, and found that it was a plan for a new Animus design, which would allow the Templars to store genetic memories in a database. And they were now building them too. Abstergo's California branch had effectively taken over the state after the Assassin HQ was destroyed.

Meanwhile, we stayed in New York while we all recovered. Unlike the L.A base, everything was underground, but this base still had everything the old base had. And as a plus, the Templars had little ground in the city, making it easy fro us to walk about. For once, we got to enjoy ourselves a bit. In December of 1995, we all had a chance to go out and bond outside of our lives as Assassins. To this day, I fondly remember us all going out frequently in 1995 to see new movies, such as Die Hard with a Vengeance and GoldenEye. We got to feel like real people again.

It was in December of 1995 that I really got to know the team. Ethan came from a rough family. His father frequently abused his mother and him violently, by beating them both with whatever he could get his hands on, until he nearly killed his wife in one of his drunken rages. He was arrested and convicted for attempted murder.

Dave and Vince had known each other since elementary school. Both had lived in New York City and expressed their fondness of being taken by their families to see the World Trade Center being constructed. Dave had competed in local boxing competitions in high school after being physically abused by bullies. Vince was a tech nerd, sort of a wanna-be Steve Jobs. He studied programming and computer science and eventually went to college.

Angela lived in poverty most her life. Her farther was a Vietnam War veteran who didn't really settle down until he was forty. After returning home, he had several problem with alcohol and depression. As a result, he left the family out of fear that he'd hurt them before he could fly straight. He eventually did.

And then there was my farther. I was surprised to learn that he was a smart ass for most of high school, and very popular with female students. He didn't neglect his studies though, and the teachers were fond of him. Both my parents met in high school and became close friends almost immediately.

There was one thing about Angela though that I didn't learn until 1996. Like the L.A HQ, each Assassin team had their own quarters. And each team member had their own room. It was after waking up late at night with a feeling of thirst that I went to get drink and heard weeping from her room. Concerned, I knocked softly on her door.

"Angela, is everything okay?" I whispered.

"I'm fine," I heard in reply, but she never was a good liar.

"Listen, I'm coming in," I told her before entering. She was sitting upright in her bed, holding her right wrist close to her. Worried, I looked at it, but saw no sign of blood.

"What is it?" I asked, sitting down next to her.

"Just... just some bad dreams," she said shakily, not looking at me.

"Bad dreams don't usually turn someone into a wreck," I pointed out, "Angela, you can trust me."

She looked at me. "Soon after Grove made me work for him, he started to call me to his office after everyone had left. Then he locked me in and told me to undress. The things he did to me..."

I looked at her wrist. There was a scar there. An old one, but clearly visible.

"He did that to me after I hesitated. Said that he'd hit me again if I didn't please him. Those nights have haunted me since."

I finally knew why she hated Grove so much. Knew why she never really let men get close to her. She was afraid of men. Afraid of being abused by them.

"Angela, listen," I said, knowing not to touch her. It would just frighten her, "Grove's dead now. He can't hurt you anymore."

"But what about his brother?" she asked, "I don't want you to get hurt to."

"He won't hurt me," I replied, "In fact, he'll wish he never tore my family from me in the first place."

She seemed much better, and I went to leave, but she gripped my wrist. "Wait, please stay."

Now romance isn't exactly encouraged in the Brotherhood for reason I shouldn't have to explain, but it wasn't forbidden "as long as you kept it out of assignments," as Jones said during a meeting once.

"And please use condoms," he had added, "I worked on laundry duty for years, and I know how disgusting it is accidentally touching your mess!" We'd all laughed ourselves to tears at this, and even Jones couldn't help but crack a grin as he waited for us to shut up.

I stayed with her for the rest of the night, until I went back to my room before the sun came up. At breakfast that morning, she gave me a tired smile.

"Sleep well?" she asked, helping herself to some toast.

"Better than I have in years," I replied, pouring milk into my cereal bowl.

"Alright people," Jones address us as usual in the morning, "We have some new graduates today, Keith and Julia Williamson."

Applause went up for my brother and sister, who looked more than a little pleased at the attention. We all knew how hard it was to get to the rank of Assassin.

"Alright settle down," Jones had to yell to be heard, "Thank you. Now, today's going to be business as usual for the most part. Teams 1-A, 1-B and 1-C will patrol their assigned areas, and the recruits will continue their training. We also have a few rumors about Templar activity in lower Manhattan, so 1-C, keep an eye out. As usual, stay safe out there, and have a nice day."

He finished his address as Ethan said "Alright guys. Patrols are going as usual. Ryan, Angela and Charlie will keep an eye on the WTC and WFC and see if any more activity is reported. Dave, Vince and I will handle the rest of Battery Park City. Good luck out there."

* * *

We each split up in our white patrol sedans, Charlie driving, me keeping an eye out, and Angela in the back on surveillance. We drove around the WTC, scanning the area for anything odd. I saw something as we waited at a red light near the World Financial Center. There seemed to be a crowd gathering in the WTC Plaza.

"Should we check this out?" I asked Charlie. He looked at the scene.

"Can't hurt I suppose. Let me park the car." We parked near the WFC and went to investigate. Angela stayed behind to alert us to anything noteworthy.

A man stood in front of the entrance to Tower 1, a megaphone in hand and a wild look in his eye.

"Heed these words, or they'll kill you all!" he was shouting at the uncertain crowd of New Yorkers.

"Oh shit!" Charlie whispered, "That's Bruce Meyer. He's a Templar general who Troy's been tracking."

"Should we just capture him now?" I suggested. We both had fake NYPD badges, so arresting him would be easy.

"Yeah, before he says something stupid," Charlie replied. We both began to make our way through the crowd, then I stopped.

"Oh fuck me!" I hissed. Troy was here as well, and he looked more than ready to make the kill.

Charlie noticed him too, and swore. "If he kills him in public, he'll expose us all!"

I moved more quickly, trying to stop him. He had his blade ejected, ready to publicly announce the Brotherhood's presence.

I caught him just as he lunged at Meyer. I made a grab at his ankle, and it certainly stopped him from killing Meyer, who look down in alarm. With Troy's attention on me, his blade retracted, and he pulled out a gun to kill Meyer instead but to my shock, he pointed it at me without recognizing me.

"It's me!" I hissed, and he kicked me off of him. 

"Fucking moron!" he spat at me, as he aimed at Meyer, who looked terrified.

"Don't kill him!" I told him, but he didn't hear me. Seeing no option, I pulled myself up and kicked the gun out of his hand. He responded by ejecting his blade and pinning me down, his blade inches from my face.

"Traitor!" he snapped in his anger.

"No! Troy, listen to me!" I pleaded. Charlie came to my aid, tackling Troy. Seeing the opportunity, Meyer turned to run. Troy saw the movement, and threw Charlie off of him. I tried to intercept, but could only watch helplessly as Troy jumped and pinned Meyer down, and ended his life with jab of the blade.

"What have you done?!" Charlie shouted at him. Troy stood and turned to me.

"You traitor!" he said again.

"I'm not a traitor!" I argued, but he didn't listen. Only raised his gun and aimed at me.

"TROY! NO!" Charlie yelled.

I ran at Troy just as he fired. The bullet went into my left shoulder, tearing through skin and bone. I fell to the concrete, and landed in a small pool of my own blood.


	10. Chapter 10

"Troy, you fool!" Charlie shouted at him while keeping pressure on my wound. My head was spinning. I could feel myself being dragged unconscious, and it became harder and harder to stay awake as I lost blood. People screamed and ran in all directions, and I heard more gunshots. Forcing myself to lift my head, I saw Troy run off past the South Tower entrance, blood pouring from a serious, but unlikely painful gunshot wound on his leg. The officer who had gotten the lucky shot ran over to us.

"I'm calling an ambulance. Keep pressure on the wound!" he told my farther. He ran back to his NYPD cruiser and spoke into the radio:  
"I got a civilian down at World Trade Center plaza. Gunman's wounded and running!" He ran back to the scene and address the crowd, "Alright people, I need everyone to clear the area right now. Please clear the area!"

The crowd dispersed, but not before one man gave the officer his overcoat to cover my wound.

"Thank you," I rasped.

"Don't mention it," the stranger said before leaving. The cop lifted me up to place part of the coat under me, and then cover my front side. The blood flow stopped, and I felt a bit less dizzy as long as I stayed still.

"Are you alright?" the cop asked, kneeling down next to Charlie.

"I'll be alright," I replied groggily.

"Do you know who that man was?" the officer asked me.

"A friend of ours," Charlie lied quickly, "He's been a bit paranoid lately. Wouldn't let us take him to a doctor. I never thought he'd do something like this."

"Yeah, these kinds of people can be hard to spot," the cop replied, "Ah well. He won't get far. Officers probably got him before he left the area. Security got increased after '93."

An ambulance arrived, and paramedics ran towards us. I was placed on a stretcher and taken to a nearby hospital. I was knocked out with drugs before I got prepped for surgery, and when I woke up, I felt light-headed.

The first thing I noticed was that I wasn't in the hospital. Instead, I was in the same room I occupied after leaving L.A. Jones was once again standing over me., accompanied by Charlie and the rest of my team.

"How you feeling?" Jones asked me.

"Like shit," I groaned. Jones gave me a sad smile.

"You'll live. Troy was always a awful shot."

"What happened to him?" I asked.

"THe NYPD got him pretty quickly. They interrogated him, and..." Charlie trailed off.

"What is it?" I asked, but I could guess the answer.

"Troy spilled the beans on us," Ethan informed me finally, "Everything. The Assassins, Templars. And he had proof to show it."

"Fuck," I couldn't help but say, sounding like an angry old man.

"It could have been a lot worse," Dave added quickly, "The NYPD got in touch with us. They were going to send SWAT teams after us, but we convinced them to hold off until we explained things."

"They agreed to listen to us, and they don't take us for a threat. Washington's in chaos. The government's trying to sort it all out," Jones explained, "Even President Clinton is involved.

"What about the public?"

"They know nothing," Charlie reassured me, "The NYPD's kept it all quiet. We dodged a fatal bullet, that's for sure."

* * *

I was up on my feet in days. Jones and Miles flew off to Washington to meet the President. Someone had leaked information to the public. Not the whole truth, but enough to cause speculation. It all got linked back to the shooting at the World Trade Center. The media searched for me, but never came close to finding me. Jones and William flew back here from D.C, both looking relieved and a bit excited.

"He's coming!" Jones told me.

"Who?"

"The President!" Miles exclaimed, "Oh God. This is huge! We've got the support of the U.S Government!" He leaped around in victory, apparently forgetting that he was a fully grown adult.

"He'll be visiting you briefly when he arrives," Jones added, calming down, "He seems very supportive of our cause. Not surprising really. God, we just hit gold!"

Everyone had butterflies in preparation for Clinton's visit. The base was tidied up, and and security was added. Jones, William and I were to meet the President when he arrived at a private helicopter pad that the Assassins owned. We'd go by car to the base, where Clinton would take a tour and discuss our next move. I was nervous too. The closest I'd ever gotten to the President during a trip to D.C back in the 80's, and even then I got a feeling of being this close to the leader of my country.

On the day of Clinton's visit, the Assassin convoy waited at the helipad as the unmarked chopper landed. A single man in a suit stepped out and opened the side door. Out he stepped, his hair graying, and wearing a blue suit a tie.

"Mr President," Jones stepped forward and outstretched his hand.

"God seeing you again," Clinton replied, grasping it. William Miles stepped forward next.

"A great honor having you here, Mr President," he said, shaking hands with Clinton. I was next in line.

"A pleasure to meet you, sir," I said nervously, also shaking hands. Clinton smiled.

"Thank you. I'm deeply honored to meet you all," he told me.

"Well, Mr President," Jones said, "Shall we be on our way?"

We made our way down, accompanied by the President's guard, and stepped into the unmarked Limo waiting for us. The four guards sat in the two SUV's at the front or back of the car.

"It's very historic having you meet us, sir," Jones told Clinton, "You are the first American president to know of our cause."

"And it's a cause I intend to support," the President answered, "I take the freedom of everyone, not just those of this country seriously, as any good leader would. I hope I'll be able to see the day that we win this fight together."

We arrived at the building leading to the underground base. William knocked on the door, and said "William Miles, accompanied by the President of the United States."

The door opened. A guard inside said "The President has arrived," into a two-way radio. The staircase at the back of the building lead down to the HQ, and we descended the lit stairs and went through into the base.

The main control room was a huge room. The staircase led to a walkway that surrounded the room. Down below, A huge screen was mounted to one wall, and workstations sat in rows below.

"This our our main war room, sir," William said, "This is where the entire brotherhood is run. Any order from an Assassin leader is followed here."

"Impressive," Clinton said with genuine awe, "Clearly, you are a powerful force."

"Not as powerful as we once were," Jones said as we walked, "The Assassins have lost more and more ground since the Colonial era. And each day, we lose more and more good men and women." I heard the bitterness in his voice, and thought back to the L.A massacre.

"Perhaps we will be able to change that," Clinton replied hopefully. We reached the double doors opposite the screen.

"The complex is connected by a maze of hallways and corridors," Jones explained as they toured the base, "The complex includes a training area for recruits almost as big as the main base, a dining room for recruits and Assassins, a hospital, dorm rooms and bunkers in the event of an attack."

"Incredible," Clinton mused as they continued, "I've never seen a base like this."

"It's taken us many years to build this place," William informed the President, "Construction first began in 1945, and the technology and equipment has been updated since completion."

"Are their other bases such as this?"

"Yes. We have a complex in several countries including Australia, Japan, Germany, Russia, England, Canada and Italy. We also had a base in every U.S State until the California HQ was destroyed by Abstergo."

We toured the base and functions. Clinton was impressed by the size of our "operation" and said he looked forward to assisting our cause. We continued the meeting in a conference room near William's office.

"So, Mr President," he said, taking a seat, "Do you approve of our operation?"

"Very much," Clinton replied.

"Then is there anything else you would like to know?" Jones inquired.

"There are a few things," the President admitted, "How exactly does Abstergo plan to rise to power?"

Jones and William exchanged a look, at me.

"Should I leave?" I said, sighing.

"No, it's fine," William brushed off my concern, then addressed the President, "It's something only senior and leader Assassins are made aware of. The Templars have plans to use scraps of technology from a forerunner race used to control early humans as slaves."

The president's eyebrows shot up. "I see. And how do you know they exist?"

"We have one," William told him. Standing up, he walked over to a cabinet and withdrew a small box, which he set back down on the table. Using a key, he unlocked the box and lifted the lid.

A golden light filled the room, and everyone shielded their eyes from it. When everyone's eyes had adjusted, I looked into the box.

Inside was a small sphere slightly larger than a cricket ball, perhaps made of metal with strange markings carved into it. It seemed to vibrate slightly in it's box, as if it was alive.

William shut the box after the President had had a good look, and the glow disappeared.

"Are you convinced, Mr President?" he asked. Clinton looked at him, and stood up to his level.

"Mr Miles," he said, outstretching his hand, "You have my full support of your cause."


	11. Chapter 11

I cannot put into words how much having the government as an ally help our cause for the last part of the 20th century. With the President himself knowing that we were not a threat, we no longer had to hide from the local law enforcement. Instead, we worked with them all around the world as other leaders were informed of the Assassin's existence, in order to find Templars hiding as common criminals. Not only that, but the government also offered to financially support any move we made against Abstergo.

it did, however, come with two disadvantages. A: Anyone associated with Abstergo, as well as the group itself, disappeared, making it hard to track Templars down.  
And B: This meant that the public was turning to the government for answers. A UN meeting was called in July of 1997, and each leader agreed to reveal the presence of the Assassins to the public of each nation. The entire world would be watching. On September 23rd, 1997, the President called a press conference at the White House, with others following worldwide hours later. Miles had travel back to D.C to attend, while we watched from the hideout.

"It has recently come to my attention that the group known as Abstergo industries has been conspiring against government around the world," Clinton told the press, the flashes of cameras going off, "The well-known organisation is, in fact, only a front for a sinister cause. One that we were led to believe was wiped out centuries ago.

"Abstergo Industries is in reality the modern-day equivalent of the Knight's Templars."

There was murmuring and laughter in the room. The President waited for silence before continuing.

"You may think it's a joke, but this is a very serious matter. This revelation was revealed to me only months ago, and I was reluctant to believe it as well. But I assure you, this is no joke. Our freedom, our very way of life is at risk by this group, who wish nothing less than control of the entire human race.

"Abstergo has declared a war on not only the United States, but the entire world. And for centuries, this war has been fought by a single group, and I now invite that group to speak to you."

The President welcomed William Miles to the stage, then stepped down. Mile cleared his throat before speaking.

"I expect that some of you are amused by what the President has said. Perhaps you are in disbelief, or shock. I would not blame you. But this a real war, and one more serious than any before it.

"The Brotherhood of Assassins has existed since the earliest human civilizations, fighting a war against the Templars. Hidden throughout the centuries.

"The small group of talented men who formed this Brotherhood strongly supported the idea of total piece and order through society. The Templars, too, shared this vision. However, while we supported the freedom of all human beings, the Templars believed that with freedom, peace is impossible. They still hold this view, and will stop at nothing to see everything that this nation has worked for for centuries done away with."

The murmuring continued. Miles ignored it.

"We have influence all over the world, and before the day is done, everyone will know of us. Until now, we have not had the support of any government,and have had to hide from the authorities as well as the Templars. Those days are over. We have the full support of the government, and I ask each and every one of you to show your support as well."

Someone in the crowd shouted "Where's the proof?"

"Right here," William replied shortly, and drew from the inside pocket of his blazer the Apple of Eden. It glowed that strange golden glow that it did before, filling the entire room. Some shielded their eyes, others seemed mesmerized. But there was a murmur in the crowd. One of realization that it was all true.

Miles placed the Apple back in his pocket, and the glow disappeared.

"What I just showed you was the most powerful device on the planet, and the Templars want it to control you all."  
He concluded his speech and left with the President. The press followed, pestering them with questions.

* * *

By the next day, everyone in the world knew of the threat of the Templars. Every news program was talking about it, showing support for the Brotherhood.

"I gotta go guys. I got work and headaches ahead," Jones said, leaving the lounge. The team and I stayed behind while others went to bed.

"So what happens now?" asked Angela.

"We wait to see what happens," Ethan told her, "Now that we're public, we'll be recruiting members. There's a lot to sort out, so get some sleep team."

Everyone left except Angela and I.

"What are you gonna do?" I asked her.

"We've almost won this fight," she replied, "I'm staying to see it through."

"Abstergo still has a lot of power," I pointed out, "We might still lose this."

"Then that's the way it'll be."

* * *

Ethan was right. We were recruiting new members. And some of them were good too. Around 300 men and women were exceeding expectations. Our agents, the FBI and the CIA were now searching for Templars in America. Already some had been caught and interrogated. The information was used to search for Templar bases and outposts globally. We fired on them, they fired on us, and the war began.

It was in November of 1997 that the team got it's next major assignment... overseas. Troy had been spotted by Australian scouts, and with the Australian brotherhood lacking the means, we were sent in to assist the search for him. On November 30th, we embarked on an 8 hour flight to Melbourne, where Troy had last been seen. We were closing in on the city when the attack began.

The flight attendant called Ethan to the cockpit. And when he came back, his face was grim.

"Two Templar fighter jets are tailing us," he said.

We and a few other Assassins were the only other passengers on board. The crew had been told of the risk and agreed to escort us to Sydney.

"So what's the plan?" I asked.

"Australian jets are on their way to get them off our backs. sit tight until then."

Just as he finished talking, a WHOOSING noise was heard outside, and the missile fired from the Templar jet tore off the wing.


	12. Chapter 12

The plane rolled over and over and had I not been wearing a seatbelt, I would have been thrown everywhere. Ethan wasn't so lucky. He had still been standing when the plane was hit. He yelled as he was tossed all over the cabin, before the plane righted itself and he fell to the floor, swearing.

We were going down fast. Even in the darkness outside I could see how close the ocean was. Our only hope was that we'd be able to land in the harbour and swim to shore.

Ethan was back on his feet. The plane wasn't quite upright, and he stood awkwardly.

"Guys, get ready to swim. We're gonna have to ditch this bird."

We unbuckled as fast as possible and scrambled for the door. The co-pilot came out and said, "We're about to land! Brace yourself!"

The plane hit the water, and we were flung forward. Recovering quickly, Vince helped me open the door.

We were floating, for the minute. And luckily, we were only a short distance from the Sydney Opera House, lit up like it was New Year's Eve.

"Let's go guys, jump!" I said, before another missile hit.

I was flown out of the plane and into the water. It was freezing, and it took me awhile to recover and surface. The plane was a burning wreck, the debris falling into the water. Rescue boats were already on their way, lights flashing. But where was my team?

Something touched me, and I turned around to see the corpse of one of the Assassins. He was burnt, and more like a skeleton with clothes. I prayed that it wasn't anyone on my team.

"Ryan!"

"Angela?"

"Over here!"

I swam towards her, fighting the current. She floated next to me, dazed but alive.

"Where are the others?" I asked, fearing the answer.

"Vince and Charlie swam for shore. Dave went looking for you, and I don't know where Ethan is."

"Alright, it's not safe. We gotta swim. Can you do that?"

"Yeah, I'm okay."

We swam for þe rescue boats, where the crew pulled us aboard.

"It's alright mate, we got you," said a bald man with a grey beard.

"Did you see any other survivors?" Angela asked, dripping all over.

"I'm afraid not," said the second crew member, a woman with blonde hair, "We saw the plane go down and we set out and found you two."

The sun began to rise over Sydney Harbour as the boat sped towards shore. The burning plane wreckage sank into the water, leaving smoke and oil behind. News helicopters hovered above the scene, and I saw a number nine printed in blue on one of the white choppers. We made it back to the pier sitting by the bridge, our clothes still damp. Relief flooded me as I saw Vince, Charlie and Dave waiting with police. But I still pondered over Ethan's fate.

"Oh thank God," Charlie sighed, embracing me as we stepped onto the pier.

"How's Ethan?" ANgela asked, clad in a blue blanket.

"He's been taken to the Royal North Shore Hospital," one of the officers said. The four men wore dark blue pants, a light blue short-sleeved shirt and a vest with 'POLICE' printed on the front, "He's suffered some nasty burns, but he's in stable condition."

Angela and I sighed with relief.

"So what happens now?" I asked the team.

"We stay here until Ethan's recovered," Vince replied, "Until then, we enjoy ourselves."

* * *

We checked in at a nearby hotel. Really classy place. Everyone shared the room with someone else, and I shared with Angela. Ethan got out of North Shore Hospital after a few days. He had a few burns, but he was well on his way to recovery.

Two nights after our arrival, I was browsing through channels on the TV, and I came across a news report on the crash. Again, I saw the number nine logo of National Nine News.

"Good evening, and welcome to Nine News," the brown haired, well dressed anchorman said in a noticeable Australian accent, "A plane has been shot down in Sydney Harbor during the early hours of Saturday morning. The plane, carrying members of the up-until now secret Assassin Brotherhood, was fired at from an unknown location behind the plane. The once powerful corporation Aberstgo Industries has been suspected of the attack. Prime Minister John Howard has condemned the group, describing it as "a threat to everything this country has fought for". Assassin bureaus have been set up in cities in town across Australia for anyone wishing to join the anti-terrorist group."

A knock on my door reached my ears and I got up off the couch to answer it. My father was outside.

"What's up?" I asked.

"Change of plan," Charlie said. I noted that he was dressed in a white sweatshirt and black pants; traditional Assassin attire, "Troy's been spotted in Canberra. Our spies are saying he might be involved in a plot to attack Parliament House."

"Oh shit," I exclaimed, "When do we go?"

"We're going to the airport in 20 minutes. Get your gear ready."

* * *

I was ready in half the time. I went down to the lobby and we were escorted by police to the black van waiting outside. Dave and Vince got in, then switched seats as Dave reached for the steering wheel, only to see that it was on Vince's side. Vince was at his laptop monitoring radio traffic in the area. The rest of us fell silent as Ethan talked. He had a nasty scar on his face from the burns, but it would be gone in a few weeks.

"Now listen up. The bureau in Canberra believes that a bomb has been planted somewhere in or near the Parliament House. We don't know how it got there, or where it is, but we do know that it will take out everything in a half-mile radius, including the Parliament Building. The Prime Minister, Minster for Foreign Affairs, Senators and Minister for communication will be in that building, along with countless others. If they die, Australia's government could fall apart."

"So what's the plan?" I asked.

"The bomb's on a timer and we can't evacuated the area, so we'll have to split up and search the area. Ryan, Charlie and Angela, you guys will have the House of Representatives and Member's offices. Dave, Vince and I will handle the Senate, Cabinet Room and Minister's offices. The bomb squad will handle the rest. If you see Troy, use of deadly force is authorized. If he takes a shot at anyone, don't hesitate to drop him. Everyone clear?"

"Yes sir!" We chanted.

* * *

By the time we arrived, we still had five hours to stop the timer. It was still early, and the House of Representatives sitting wouldn't start for another hour. Police were already at the building, keeping reporters out. The Parliament House was a modern white structure with white concrete pillars built in front of it's main entrance. The wide pathways surrounding the fountain were colored in the brown and reddish pink of Aboriginal artwork. High atop the structure, the flag of Australia displaying the Union Jack, Federation Star and Southern cross flapped in the breeze.

"Alright guys, search for the bomb, try not to disturb the politicians, and DO NOT break anything," Ethan said before we entered the magnificently-decorated entrance hall with it's marble floor and columns, and high windows letting the sunlight in. Only a few people were going about their work at this hour. Nobody stood out until...

Then I saw him. Disguised as a security guard, his left side turned to me, heading for the stairs, was Troy. He walked with a purpose, and I could guess what it was.

"There he is!" I shouted, "Get him!"

He turned in alarm, then ran. Knowing I wouldn't be able to catch up, I drew my handgun and fired two blind shots. One hit him in the shoulder, but he kept running. His blood splattered all over the marble floor. People screamed and ran in all directions. The security gave chase after him.

"Fuck!" I yelled.

"Worry about it later!" Ethan told me, "Now get him!"


End file.
